Author's note: I finally found time to write. Thanks for the great lines this week (this story is an Unbound Improv Challenge, where first and last lines are provided.) As always, I own nothing, so there is no point in suing me. I just wanted the characters to come out and play for a while.

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"Quit picking at it!"

Grissom looked up to see Sara glaring at him with an expression that would cause most other men to back away and run. When it came to examining evidence, however, he could be just as fearsome. He refused to back down.

"Right now, this is the only evidence we have, and I have to 'pick at it' if we want to find out what happened to our vic," he snapped back as he reached again with the tweezers. His efforts were met with an unearthly howling and a bared set of fangs that did more to convince him to back off than even Sara's death glare could. He sighed heavily and rubbed the bridge of his nose in exhaustion. He just knew this case was going to go badly.

It seemed simple enough when they had arrived at the scene: dead body in an alleyway, strangulation marks around her throat, nothing they hadn't seen before. It only turned strange when they crouched next to the body and Sara felt a cold wet nose bury itself into the palm of her hand. She yelped in surprise, falling back until she was sitting on the foul-smelling asphalt staring at the ugliest cat she could ever remember seeing. Its long, all-black fur lay matted and tangled at odd angles, with tufts missing altogether in some places. Yellow eyes stared back beneath half-healed scars and an ear that's tip had obviously been ripped off years ago. Grissom turned in alarm as the massive cat launched itself at Sara, but came up short when he heard her giggling. Apparently, the open lap was all the invitation it needed, and the cat had taken it over with a single leap. A loud rumble that sounded like an old car trying to grind itself into gear poured from the animal, and Sara reached her gloved hand to rub underneath its chin. At the gentle touch, the purring somehow got louder and the cat rubbed its head into the crook of her neck in sheer ecstasy. She looked up at Grissom with softness in her eyes and a huge grin splitting her face, and he immediately knew that he was in trouble.

Finding human blood in the cat's fur and a fifty-pound bag of cat food and pamphlets on caring for feral cat colonies in the victim's trunk only confirmed Grissom's fears. They only had one piece of evidence to work with and his fellow CSI had fallen in love with it.

He suspicions were upheld when the only way they could get the cat to stop screaming on the way to the lab was for Sara to stick her hand into the cage and let it rub against her fingers. The entire ride back she spoke soothing words to calm the cat, and it was all Grissom could do not to purr himself at the husky, sultry tones, the same tones she was using now in the lab.

"It so happens that I have an easier solution for both you guys," Sara soothed. While gently stroking the cat's throat, she expertly flicked a small pill into its mouth. "Animal Control had some kitty tranquilizers. In about half an hour, this guy will be too mellow to care what you do to him."

Her words proved correct as, thirty minutes later, they were shaving and swabbing the cat with no problems. Occasionally, it would pry open an eye, but it would catch sight of Sara, let out a half-hearted purr, and snuggle deeper into sleep.

"He's such a good boy," Sara commented fondly.

"You're kidding, right?" Grissom responded, incredulous. "He's evil! The cat tried to skin my hand before you drugged him!"

"He's not evil," she defended hotly. "He was just scared. He's been a perfect gentleman with me."

"That's because he fell in love with you the moment he saw you. You could carry him around by his tail and he'd probably still adore you."

Grissom had to admit, the cat had taste. He couldn't think of anyone easier to fall for, and it had only taken the cat a matter of seconds to succumb completely. He'd known Sara for years and was still fighting it.

He watched jealously as she picked up the sleeping feline and cuddled it to her chest. The cat sighed contentedly and kneaded the soft skin of her neck as it drifted back into slumber.

"You cleaned up pretty good, handsome. Why don't you come home with me while we look for your owner?" Sara crooned. "I've got a nice warm bed that we can curl up on and nap all you want."

"Lucky cat," Grissom grumbled under his breath.

Sara turned to carry her new houseguest out of the lab, but paused at the door. With an impish grin, she winked at Grissom. "Next time you want to sleep with me, just ask."